


i will try to fix you

by tutorgirl



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 08:53:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tutorgirl/pseuds/tutorgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It scared Lizzie to her core that she didn't know what William Darcy was going to do and that he was proving himself to be every bit different from the man she'd convinced herself he was. One-shot. Post-84, with show canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i will try to fix you

**Author's Note:**

> Simply something to help me get my fill of angst while we wait for Thursday. I'd like to dedicate this fic to Silvia, who is the most incredible beta and encouragement that I could've asked for.

"Well, I just heard that William Darcy has returned to Netherfield again. I _do_ hope he's brought Bing Lee back with him. I _know_ if we could only get Jane home that --"

Lizzie started at Darcy's name, and the rest of her mother's words were lost on her. It pained her in a way to hear her mother prattle on about schemes to rope Jane and Bing back together, when she had no idea what horror and abuse her youngest daughter was dealing with right now. Meanwhile the other part of her couldn't help but cling to Darcy's name, like she had when Charlotte called her and Darcy was soothing and calm as she panicked, and the realization slowly set in that he was back.

It had been a few days since that horrifying afternoon where she'd answered the phone only to have Charlotte tell her about Wickham and Lydia. During that silent ride to the airport and throughout the flight home, Lizzie had plenty of time to herself to think. Of course her thoughts were with Lydia, first and foremost. She wasted no time in berating herself for this situation. If only she hadn't been so stubborn and intent on driving this wedge between them, then she could've talked to Lydia and warned her about Wickham. More than that, if she hadn't been so wrapped up in her own life and studies -- if she hadn't been so _selfish_ \-- she could've at least watched Lydia's videos to know what was happening. She could have stopped it, and she didn't, and now Lydia was suffering because Lizzie failed her. She had failed her baby sister. 

Yet, in that time, Lizzie also couldn't help but think back to Darcy's hand in this -- the car, the plane ticket. Getting that call seemed to pass in tunnel-vision for Lizzie, and she hadn't realized until now as she thought back, that Darcy had tried to comfort her. He had reached out to her -- her shoulder, her back. He'd offered to help her. For someone that she'd been so adamant lacked emotion and cared nothing for others, least of all her "crazy family" of such an inferior social status, he had gone to great lengths for her without Lizzie even asking. Her "thank you" hadn't been nearly enough to encompass everything he had done to get her home to her family. She kept rewinding, imprinting on her mind every detail that proved how mistaken she was about William Darcy.

And since she'd been home, Lizzie certainly hadn't lacked time to think. Lydia wasn't home and Lizzie had to resign herself to waiting, in-between every urgent text and call that Lydia didn't answer. She had to try to maintain her calm for her mother, because she didn't know and the last thing Lizzie wanted to do was send her into a panic. Jane wasn't on her way home, which meant that Lizzie was the only one aware of what Lydia was doing with George Wickham. Her resentment festered over the time she spent moving restlessly from the den to the room she'd been evicted from. Of course, Darcy had been generous but he'd left the room in such a rush. He hadn't even said goodbye -- something she should've recognized as his trade mark, when Bing left Jane in the same fashion. Maybe that was the last straw and he was glad to be rid of her family and the embarrassment they brought him. He was in all of her videos, ridiculed for the world to see. If Lydia and Wickham really went through with this -- if they posted that video -- then the Bennet name would be implicated. Darcy would be implicated. He had to have realized that, and of course he wanted to be rid of her. Lizzie had already abandoned all thought of returning to Pemberley to finish her independent study. Even if, by some miracle, she could leave her family in the midst of all this -- Lizzie was already telling herself how certain she was that he wouldn't want her back. He wouldn’t want _her_ at all.

With her entire world falling to hell, all Lizzie could rely on was her hate for William Darcy. She needed to have been right about him. Because she was wrong for everything she'd said to Lydia, for starting this fight in the first place. She was wrong for not trying to amend it. She was wrong for not caring enough to watch out for Lydia and keep her away from someone like George. She was wrong for not doing her job, as an older sister. She was meant to protect Lydia. She always had, however irritating Lydia may have seemed to her when they were growing up. That annoyance was always overshadowed by the love and endearment that Lizzie felt. Yet, in these past few weeks, Lizzie hadn't had time to spare a second thought for Lydia. She had been so wrong. So, no, Lizzie couldn’t be wrong about Darcy. She needed to cling to some shred of truth in her world, some shred of respect for herself, and all Lizzie Bennet could come up with was how ardently she'd told herself that she hated William Darcy.

Hearing his name now sent a shock through Lizzie the likes of which she'd never experienced before. She'd become well-practiced at tuning out the worst of her mother's raving -- she did love her, of course, but it wasn't something Lizzie could handle right now. But she'd latched on to his name, resurfacing from whatever pit of self-deprecation she had let herself sink into.

_William Darcy has returned to Netherfield again._

Was he really intending to stay for that long? Honestly, Lizzie thought, was she not miserable enough right now without him feeling the need to inflict something worse on her? Her instinct had to be to think the worst of him, because if she didn't, if she didn't quell that spark of hope that ignited at his name, Lizzie would be setting herself up for disappointment. And that was the last thing she thought she'd be able to handle. Somehow, she had made it through the day without breaking. She'd given herself credit enough for that. But if William Darcy had returned because of her, because of her family, because he selflessly wanted to help her and to help Lydia -- then Lizzie thought she just might lose herself after all. Because it meant that every preconception she'd made about Darcy was wrong.

Sure, in her time at Pemberley, Lizzie had begun to see a different side of him. Ever since their argument at Collins & Collins, things had been different. She'd laughed with him. She could remember it vividly. He'd let her con him into appearing in her videos in costume theatre. Perhaps he'd even enjoyed it, Lizzie couldn't be certain. She'd told him she hated him. She'd told him she could never love him. She'd told him... God knows what she'd told him in the amount of videos she'd uploaded. For all her capacity to remember his words, she'd forgotten her own. Lizzie couldn't imagine what it was like for him to be around her, knowing the full extent of the disdain she'd felt for him.

_Had_ felt -- _did_ feel -- something in between that -- Lizzie didn't know.

Yet, he kept coming back. To her office in Pemberley. To Netherfield. To her videos, and worse, to her thoughts.

Two days ago, she would've hesitated certainly before calling them friends, but not casual acquaintances. She agreed to go to the theatre with him. Had she really? That already seemed so long ago, with the weight of the days that had passed and how heavy her thoughts had been. She and Darcy had developed some kind of understanding, whatever that may be. Lizzie didn't feel herself tense up when she was around him and their conversations were not so fraught with awkward silences. Yet, she'd forced herself to abandon those pretenses entirely since she'd left. These circumstances made her want to question everything, because retreating to a norm that she knew well was easier than facing the possibility of the unknown. The unknown being that Darcy truly did care for her, and that he had returned of his own volition because her family was in trouble and he wanted to help them. He'd already done more than Lizzie would ever be able to thank him for, if she thought of the price of the plane ticket alone -- a sum that might be meaningless to him and his vast wealth but sizeable to her -- but this would be something else entirely. He wanted to be there for her. Perhaps he even wanted to face George Wickham. Lizzie couldn't even begin to imagine what that would be like for him, knowing their history like she did now. Knowing what he had done when he'd walked into Gigi's apartment and found George living there, knowing how he'd written that check and dangled it in front of George. Knowing now why he'd stared at George so severely that night in Carter's before he left.

There were many things that Lizzie had to force herself to admit that she did not understand about William Darcy; but above all she had to admit that she did not know what he was going to do if he was faced with George Wickham again. Lizzie couldn't believe he'd put himself through that again. Certainly not for her sake or Lydia's -- whom he'd only ever described as "energetic", a word that led to the deterioration of her relationship with Lydia over the past few months. It scared Lizzie to her core that she didn't know what William Darcy was going to do and that he was proving himself to be every bit different from the man she'd convinced herself he was. And if Darcy wasn’t the man she thought he was, maybe she wasn’t the Lizzie who hated him anymore.

Perceptibly, Lizzie could feel the pace of her heart quicken as her mind raced through every possible meaning of the situation. She felt scared and frantic not knowing what to think, eerily similar to how she'd felt when she'd first taken off in that car Darcy ordered for her and sat at the airport gate waiting for her plane to arrive. If her mother noticed, she didn't say a word, as she continued on in her hopes for an imminent reunion between Bing and Jane. Lizzie was sure her mother would've called Jane to make it happen too, without any knowledge whether Bing had arrived with Darcy, if Lizzie hadn't intercepted her on the way to the phone.

"Why don't --" the words fell out of her mouth before she could take them back "-- I go over there for a visit and see, first? I saw Bing when I was in San Francisco, and I'm sure he'd be fine if I dropped by."

"Oh, splendid! I just made a lemon meringue the other day, you could bring --"

"I'm sure they're fine, Mom," Lizzie interrupted, purposely trying to soften her words so as not to hurt her mother.

If her heart was racing before, that was nothing compared to now when faced with the prospect of actually seeing Darcy. It was one thing to conceptualize him and to speculate and to never know for sure, and it was wholly another to be faced with him and the reality of what was happening. The very reality that Lizzie had so perfectly trained herself to ignore since she'd stepped off the plane back home.

*

Her hands were trembling when she raised them to knock at the impressive door of Netherfield. Were it any other day, Lizzie would be able to joke about the pretentiousness of naming houses in this day and age and how inconsequential she felt in this massive entryway. But today wasn't any other day and she was about to be faced with Darcy in a context that she was completely unprepared for. She'd accepted him as the soulless, awkward, vain, and selfish _douchebag_ that she'd berated for months; and she'd accepted him as a colleague and casual acquaintance; but now she was going to be forced to encounter William Darcy as someone who went far beyond the realm of acquaintance. She took a breath to steel herself, resolving to approach this calmly. Hadn't Lizzie gotten herself into this whole debacle with Darcy in the first place because she'd made hasty assumptions that she'd committed to permanence in her videos?

It took several moments before Lizzie heard any movement from behind the door, and she was contemplating knocking a second time, when the door swung open to reveal Darcy.

"Lizzie," was all he said, seeming momentarily stunned and attempting to regain his composure. His eyes flashed, and she wondered if that had been happiness, insecurity or annoyance.

"I'm sorry," she said in a rush. "I didn't mean to surprise you, I just -- my mom heard that you were at the house and --"

She stopped when he lifted a hand to cut her off, a gentle smile on his face that Lizzie wished again she could read the meaning behind. "Please, come in," he offered, stepping back from the door and holding it open for her.

Lizzie stammered for a second or two before she finally stepped over the threshold into the foyer.

"Lizzie," he began when he turned to face her. His voice was calm and measured, her name perfectly balanced on his tongue. Lizzie hadn't noticed before now how he so often began their conversations with it. "I was serious when I offered to help you. If you'll let me, I'd like to do what I can for your sister."

She shrugged helplessly, not really knowing what to say. "Why?" Lizzie asked before she could stop herself. She realized the word came out ungrateful and indelicate, but she couldn't take it back. She felt a pang of guilt when his expression creased, furrowing his eyebrows as he attempted to find the words.

"I won't let George Wickham do this again. After what happened with Gigi last time..." He paused, exhaling heavily. "I understand what it is to have him take advantage of someone you care about."

"But you'd put yourself through all of that with him again... for Lydia? I mean, you don't even like her." 

Again, Darcy had to take a moment to collect his thoughts before he spoke. It was a habit that Lizzie had learned to recognize from their exchanges. It had become rarer, the more comfortable they'd grown with one another, but this wasn't an easy conversation to have. She tried to keep that in mind when she listened to him, remembering how he said that he had a hard time expressing himself. Putting it all together, Lizzie could understand how she'd misinterpreted him. It didn't absolve him of everything, but at the very least she found she could recognize where she'd went so wrong in her judgment.

"She's your sister, as Gigi is mine."

That realization seemed to stun Lizzie more than the rest. Of course she'd let herself consider all the possible ramifications of Darcy coming here and of facing this predicament with George again, but not the parallel of the situations. That he'd put both of their younger sisters in danger, and they both desperately needed to protect them. She wondered if Darcy had blamed himself, the way she had. Maybe he still did, as Lizzie knew she would long after the incident had passed.

Hesitantly, Lizzie stepped forward and extended a hand to clasp his wrist gently. She had done this before, but this time she didn't feel the need to quickly pull her hand away.

"Darcy... _thank you_ ,” and there was that tone again, the pleading, hopeful, intonation of his name she seemed to be making so much lately, “Honestly, for everything. You don't have to do this. You've already done more than enough for me. I'll... find the money to pay you back, I promise. It'll probably have to be after I finish my graduate studies though... if I finish them, because I don't know how I'm going to continue shadowing Pemberley, and --"

"Lizzie --" he cut her off again. He stepped even closer to her, leaving only a few inches between them, and reached for her arm, gently holding on to her. "You don't have to pay me back. I don't want you to. Let me do this for you."

She couldn't find words, and so she simply nodded. What words were there? If he could truly fix this, Lizzie would be indebted to him more than she could ever imagine. He would've saved Lydia from a horrifying future filled with regret, for something that was never her fault. He would've saved _her_ from the heartbreak that came with watching her baby sister suffer.

And he didn't have to do it. Yet, here he was standing in front of her. Holding her arm.

Lizzie knew her eyes must be glistening from the tears she'd refused to shed in the last few days, and the ones she stubbornly refused to shed in front of him now. But she was touched and moved in a way that was beyond words by the gesture Darcy was making for her now. Whatever she may have thought of him, and whatever they may have become during her time at Pemberley, Lizzie knew she could never hate him after this.

She felt at a loss for what else to do, feeling so drained from the sleep she hadn't been able to get and the hours she'd spent thinking about this and the toll it had taken on every ounce of her emotional well-being. Lizzie was past the point of stopping herself or questioning herself when she just stepped forward and allowed herself to slip her hands around Darcy's waist in an embrace she so desperately needed. He was stunned into stillness for only a few seconds before he responded and wrapped his arms around her, locking her into a secure, warm embrace. This time she could savor the way his arm felt around her, the calming effect of his hand rubbing small circles on her back, and the way he smelled, clean and fresh, but not overbearing.

Lizzie didn't care that this was Darcy: a man who she was very adamant about hating mere hours ago. It was exhausting trying to maintain that hate when it had proved itself so unwarranted. Particularly in the midst of this mess, when all Lizzie really wanted to do was let everything wash away for just a moment. And she somehow found that moment in the foyer of the Netherfield House, in the arms of William Darcy, who had just offered to help her fix everything.


End file.
